Share this:

Like this:

So, here’s a conversation I had with my Wee this evening… And I firmly believe I am the only person the the face of the planet who will have this conversation with their four year old:

Wee – “Mommy, why is your hair so short. I didn’t say you could chop it off.” Me – “You said I could get it cut dude.” Wee – “I meant trimmed not chopped.” Me – “Whoops, sorry… It’ll grow back.” Wee – “You know mommy, when people get cuts they don’t like, they can glue the hair back on. I’ll get the glue.” Me – “Dude; two things, I like the cut and second, Jess threw out the hair already so you can’t glue it back on.” Wee – “MOMMY! Why would she do that! Tell her to get it out of the garbage! We need it!”Me – “For what dude?” Wee – “To glue it back on of course!”Me – “Dude, it’ll grow back.”Wee – “Not fast enough Mommy. I don’t want to look at your hair again until it’s long.” Me – “Sorry dude; I’ll clarify next time.” Wee – “Trim mommy, trim. Not chopped. I’m so mad at you.” Me – “Sorry dude.”

Share this:

Like this:

The last few days have truly been a roller coaster of emotions, feelings, thoughts, smiles, tears, and quiet contemplation.

I’ve been leaning on a couple of my friends pretty hard…

I’ve been fearing that after all that Wee and I have been through, well, honestly, I’ve been looking in the mirror wondering if perhaps I wasn’t sliding into a depression of my own because really, how long can you be strong under the weight of someone else’s illness before you finally slide into one of your own?

And his illness, for those of you who know the full story, know it hit hard and fast. There was always something ‘off’ about how he would handle things or decisions that he would make… But in about an eight to ten week time-frame he went from ‘okay’ to so completely off his rails that most days, I didn’t know who I was dealing with from one moment to the next.

And there was so much fear and anxiety for me in that way of life…

And then, add on top of that all of the things that would be said to emotionally tear me down….

Pile on top of that the day-to-day stresses that we all face as well as a stressful and emotionally trying job, single-parenting a toddler, and my own demons that I face daily….

It’s no wonder to me that I looked in the mirror one day, with tears streaming down my face, and texted Rob: “What are the chances of me sliding into depression?”

I think on some levels I’m doing okay. It’s definitely one day at a time… But I think for the most part, I’m actually starting to do okay.

I’ve picked up the shattered pieces of our lives… I’ve dusted some of them off and started piecing them back together; and some I have disposed of entirely.

I’ve picked up and examined all of my emotions… Some will be dealt with each time I see Layla or Glenda… And others I’m finding the strength and the knowledge to deal with on my own.

I’ve picked up my heart… And I’ve tucked that away in a safe place.

I can honestly say I’m over him… But I’m not over the damage that he did. The damage, that’s going to take a lot of work to get past.

No one can see the things I saw, experience the things he put us through, hear the things we heard without some damage….. No one.

So the work is being done to get us past that damage…. Anything that Wee needs, she’s getting and I’m seeing my counsellors as often as I can and keeping in touch with my family doctor.

Thankfully we have great professionals and amazing friends to help pull us through this.

And honestly, I think once we get everything all sorted out and dealt with, I think her and I will come back stronger than before. And I don’t think it will take us too long to get there either.

It’s just dealing with the unanswered questions; the questions that will NEVER have answers; and coming to terms with the fact that his illness wasn’t our fault and there was nothing that we could have done to stop him from getting as sick as he did; if it didn’t happen now, it would have happened eventually.

But, while we heal… And while we repair the damage… And while we move past it all and do the work necessary to move past it all… We’re still having fun. We laugh, we play, we have fun….

Because what good is building a better and stronger version of yourself if you leave out the love and the fun??

Share this:

Like this:

Yes, it was a day long one…. One that Rob finally brought to a merciful end…

Thank you for knocking me off my pity pot hun…. Thank you for being able to talk rational thought through my thick skull and into my pea brain.

So, it was a day of being upset, being mad, being sad, being… Just being every negative emotion that you can think of…

It was a day for tears…

It was a day of just feeling raw and used and disappointed in the human race; or at least the portion of the human race that knows him…..

My rational…. Simple…. But complex…. But selfish…. But petty….

Boil it all down and, as was firmly pointed out to me…

“You’re just focusing on things that you shouldn’t be.”

Hm…

Yes, you’re right. I am.

Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things if HIS FAMILY doesn’t want anything to do with me or care to show me or my Wee any kindness from this moment forward? Does it matter if they choose to ‘side’ with him in his mangled mess of a life….?? Does it matter if they decide to pay the piper for his current woes?? Does it matter if they choose to believe his every lie; or even just every other lie???

No.

Will those actions, of HIS FAMILY stop MY WORLD from running, my sun from rising and setting, my days from rolling one into the next?

NO.

So then why the fuck am I worried about it? Who really gives a shit?

I shouldn’t.

Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things if HIS BAND takes him back after all that he has done to me and to my child? Does it matter if they decide to overlook his irrational, erratic, destructive, and incomprehensible behaviour? Does it matter if they decide to overlook every lie that he tries to hide behind, every public mask that he decides to wear and just let the show go on?

No.

So then why the fuck am I worried about it? Who really gives a shit?

I shouldn’t.

And the reasons I shouldn’t… Simple. Very simple.

No matter what HIS PEOPLE do or do not do, my world still rolls on. My sun still rises. My sun still sets. My days still pass. And my Wee, she still hugs me every day and tells me that she’s happy that I AM ME.

The people who TRULY matter in our world, the people who I should truly be looking for validation from, they pour validation our way every moment of every day.

The people and things that really matter… They’re RIGHT HERE… And they’re not going anywhere…

So let him have his family who is going to pick him up and dust him off and have to cope with the fallout of his instability.

Let him have his band that isn’t a band without their drummer; their drummer who no one really knows because you can’t truly know someone who doesn’t know themselves.

And let THEM put up with his nonsense and bullshit and emotional games…

They want someone like him in their lives; that’s their choice. Not mine. I chose to remove him and his ways from my life and the life of my daughter. That was MY choice; a choice fully supported by those who matter…

A choice that has been validated a million times over by those who matter to us…

Share this:

Like this:

It feels like I’ve fit a lifetime into those days… And sadly, very little of it has been ‘good’.

I looked in the mirror today and my first thought was “oh shit… It’s aged me”… And it has… All of it has… There are new lines… New worry lines… The last while with him; it’s aged me.

Since asking him to leave the home, I had been keeping up tentative communication with him… Very tentative at first… Short emails. Then text messages. Then conversations.

He kept speaking of finding peace.

Great.

We then started speaking of ‘Well maybe when you’re better’ because, well, I don’t think I had ever really given up hope for ‘better’; not at that point anyway…

But then Friday came.

I walked around all day with a feeling… You know that feeling… That pit of your stomach feeling… The one that says something… Something’s coming.

He texted a few times… He was going to his mother’s church then staying at a co-worker’s overnight.

Later in the evening, he texted again; within an hour, things started getting ‘weird’…

That pit of my stomach feeling moved up into a heavy heart…

It’s coming.

But I didn’t find out what ‘it’ was until the next morning when his mother emailed me to call her.

Well, he went off his rails again.

Thankfully, everyone is physically fine.

Unfortunately the fallout from this one is far-reaching…

And because of some of that fallout… And then the fact that he can’t stop lying… And then the fact that something that he said scared the hell out of me… Well, I’ve had to send the ‘don’t ever talk to me again; EVER.’ email.

So now there is quiet… Peace… Again…

For how long I don’t know… It’s a tentative peace… And Wee and I are still learning how to live as two… It’s a tough thing to relearn!!

“Mommy… You bought too many vegetables”“I know dude”“Mommy… We have tons of milk”“I know dude”“Mommy… ““Dude.. Mommy need to learn to shop for just two. It’s okay. Really. I love you.”

It’s hard…

It’s hard to relearn to be two when being three to six went so well; so smoothly….

It’s hard to stop cooking for a small army….

It’s hard to stop thinking about ‘what will EVERYONE like’…

And it’s hard to turn a cold shoulder to someone that you love…

But I had to… I had to save me and my Wee from him… From his destruction.

Because he’s not done yet.

And we can’t be part of that.

And now I’m crying my first real tears since I told him to leave the house…

Share this:

Like this:

It’s been a week and a half since mine and Wee’s life got flipped on its ass…

The routine has set in… Off to school for her, work for me… Home from school then lessons or classes or working together on chores and dinner… Bath, then cuddles…

There have been lots of cuddles…

There have been shockingly few tears… From either of us…

There has been a lot of talking about what happened and why he can’t be here any more….

And a lot of insight from her at the most unexpected moments…

But shockingly few tears.

I know the tears will come; it’s inevitable… You can’t drastically alter your life for the good or the bad without tears falling…

But I don’t think there will be many tears…

And that’s not because I didn’t care…. And not because I don’t care….

It’s not because I didn’t love… And not because I don’t love…

But I think it’s because I resigned myself quite some time ago to the fact that some things in life aren’t my problem…

I tried… I tried to help… I tried to be patient and kind and understanding….

Hell, I did more than most everyone out there would have in my shoes.

And I think during those repeated attempts at trying, I was learning the lesson that I now have so deeply etched in my being that it is almost a daily rant right now….“It’s not my fault. It’s not my problem”

And that’s true of many things in life…. Sometimes, it’s just not your problem; not your bag to carry.

And I think it’s important for us all to recognize when we’re staring one of those things in the face so that we can throw our hands up, gracefully back away, and totally disengage before we get sucked into any kind of turmoil that is really not ours to be sucked into.

Isn’t life hard enough without allowing everyone else to burden you with their bad behaviour and bad decisions?

I think it is.

For right now thought, our life has gotten peaceful…. Calm waters have arrived… Gentle breezes blowing Wee and I along. We have no charted course at this moment; it’s just all about talking and healing and laughing and getting used to running our house and managing our tiny family together.

It’s about learning new boundaries… Learning how to better express ourselves; even to each other… And learning how to gracefully walk away from what is not our problem.

And it’s all about enjoying a million snuggles a minute, finding our own ways to cope and sooth ourselves and each other….. and doing what her and I do best….

Share this:

Like this:

Yesterday I had to explain to my four year old why someone she had grown to care about and who she had grown to view as a large part of her life was no longer here….

“Baby… He’s just sad… And sometimes that sad makes him not nice… And because of that, he just can’t be here…”

And then today I had to gently explain it all again when she excitedly dug through her backpack and pulled out a Valentine’s Day card that she had for him…

“But mommy, maybe THIS will make him happy.”

“No baby, it won’t. I’m sorry. Let’s go to dance okay?”

Really though, the entire time I was being gentle, I just wanted to scream…. I wanted to scream the truth of it all loud enough that everyone and anyone would hear… So that everyone would know…

But I can’t…

That’s not my job… Not my place…

I’ve done more than my share of carrying the load… It’s time for me to put the bags that aren’t mine to carry down and hope that maybe one day he’ll be wise enough to pick them up on his own and get himself back to living a real life.

Until then, he’ll continue to wear what masks he chooses… He’ll continue to tell people what he wants them to hear… He’ll continue to live some kind of life that is truly a one way street to total destruction….

And you’ll only be able to catch glimpses of what is truly behind the mask if you look in his eyes and pay attention long enough.

Now though, right now, today, tomorrow, forever… My job is to be gentle with my daughter… Honest yet gentle… And let her know that no matter what, she always has me and the small group of people that she considers family…